Missing
by Miss Peg
Summary: Naomi is missing Emily...


**Title:** Missing  
**Author:** Miss Peg  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins, but I have met some lovely people thanks to it.  
**Notes:** This is a random piece of random, written for random reasons. Enjoy.

'Naomi, where are you going?' said Effy, standing in the doorway of the bar. 'I thought we were going out tonight.'

'Can't,' said Naomi, slipping her arms into her jacket and rushing out of the door. She missed Emily too much to do any of their usual activities. The last couple of days sitting in that same bar drinking, with Emily by her side, made it all too painful. She'd been gone for barely two days, a quick trip to her parents before she travelled back to Spain. She felt so alone, so fucking alone when Emily wasn't there and even though Effy wasn't far away, trying to drag her out for a drink, she loathed the diverted attention. Maybe she wanted to wallow in the self-pity that was her year without Emily?

She marched down the street, ignoring Effy's calls of detest. Best friend or not, Naomi fucking hated her sometimes. The street was empty, except for a couple holding hands and kissing every few feet; rubbing it in her fucking face, not that they knew she was lonely. She fished her mobile out of her pocket and dialled Emily's number, to no avail. Probably out with Katie or her parents; too busy living her perfect life away from Naomi. Eventually the phone went to voicemail.

'I fucking miss you already; you'd better be missing me too.'

Then she hung up the phone and continued to walk down the street, not caring for her destination. So she was walking around a not so nice part of London on her own at night, so fucking what?

'Aussie, Aussie, Aussie,' a man shouted in front of her, making her jump just a little.

'Oi, Oi, Oi,' someone else shouted beside him.

Naomi glanced up at the Australian bar they were smoking outside of, fucking stereotypes whoever they were. They probably weren't even Australian. Still...

'Got a fag I can borrow?' she asked, accepting one that had just been lit. 'Thanks.'

Nothing settled her worries better than a cigarette, except maybe a cigarette filled with weed, but she couldn't count her chickens when asking strangers for a smoke.

'Fastest one wins,' said the one who gave her the cigarette. She wasn't one for ignoring a request and so joined them in a brief competition to see who could smoke their cigarette the fastest.

Once the cigarettes were little more than ash, she accepted the prize of a pint of beer and a packet of crisps, or chips as the Australian had called them.

'Whatever, I win, you lose, fuck you,' she shouted as they entered the bar. Maybe she didn't fancy drinking with Effy, but it didn't mean she couldn't drink with randoms she'd picked up in a bar.

A couple of hours later and she wandered back down the same street, her eyes cloudy and her mouth dry. She desperately needed a couple of pints of water, or another fag, either would have done. Instead she wandered into the nearest open shop looking for a toilet.

'Only paying customers can use it,' the man standing behind a desk informed her, much to her annoyance.

'What a fucking stupid rule is that, what do you even do anyway? How much will it cost for me to have a fucking piss?'

'Twenty quid for the smallest, anything upward of that.'

'For a piss?' she asked, staring at him.

'No, for a tattoo.'

'Oh,' she muttered, reaching into her pocket for some money. 'Here. Now where's your loo?'

Twenty minutes, a piss and a whole lot of pain later and Naomi wandered back down the street once more, in search of home. Her teeny tiny apartment, the most expensive shoebox she'd ever had the displeasure of living in. It was good to be home, except that her bed wasn't warm, it wasn't filled with Emily and she couldn't figure out for the life of her how to turn the lights on.

'Fucking wanker,' she mumbled, stumbling across the shit tip of clothes and books scattered around the floor.

By morning her head ached, her mouth was no less dry and the bright light coming from the gap in the curtains made her want to curl back under the covers and hibernate. She wrapped up tightly in her duvet and closed her eyes, hoping the pain would eventually dissipate.

'Wakey, wakey.'

Emily. Naomi groaned a little as she heard her voice, probably in her mind as it so often was when Emily wasn't by her side. She groaned again and squeezed her eyes closed even tighter.

'Wake the fuck up and kiss me, I thought you missed me.'

Definitely Emily, Naomi cracked open an eyelid, just in case and before she'd even focused on the person sitting on the side of her bed, her mouth had been stolen by lips that tasted so familiar. She wrapped her arms tightly around Emily's waste and cuddled into her, pawing desperately at her body in the hope of pulling her even closer. Then an almighty pain hit her hard on her hip and she screamed out, tossing Emily backwards.

'What did you do that for?' Emily asked, looking a little offended.

'Fuck me,' said Naomi, pulling her t-shirt away from the offending body part. 'Fuck me even harder.'

'I was trying to,' said Emily, a cheeky grin on her face.

'No.' Naomi grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, until the cursive tattooed into her hip was visible.

'You got my name tattooed on your stomach?'

'Apparently...'

Emily's surprised expression turned back into her cheeky grin and Naomi couldn't help but smile.

'What if we're not forever?' said Emily, raising an eyebrow.

'Of course we're forever.'

'What if I died?'

'Then I'm fucked,' said Naomi, wincing as she touched the painful ink. 'But don't die, I'd miss you too much.'

xxx

The sofa was her best friend, not that she'd ever tell Effy that. It comforted her, made her feel safe and warm and it never, ever let her down. Naomi curled into a ball on her friend and cuddled one of its cushions, anything to help rid the feeling of hopelessness. Emily had been gone for a month. A whole fucking month with little more than phone calls, texting, email and the occasional fucking over Skype.

'You're hopeless when you're like this,' said Effy, pushing her feet to one side in order to steal part of Naomi's best friend. She wanted to protest, but with no other comfortable seating in the flat, she didn't feel like she could argue too much.

'I fucking miss her.'

'You always fucking miss her, can't you just move to Spain or something?'

'Can't.'

'Won't,' said Effy.

'I don't have the money.'

'You don't have money here.'

'I have you here,' she replied, sitting up and wrapping her arms around Effy's stomach. 'Thank you for that.'

'You're welcome.'

'Still, if it wasn't for you I'd be living in Bristol with my mother whilst she fucks Kieran every night. No thanks.'

Naomi sighed heavily and rested her head against Effy's lap. Maybe the sofa wasn't her best friend; maybe it just made her friend an even better friend by providing double the comfort, double the safety and double the warmth.

'I'm going out tonight,' said Effy and like that the sofa became the better friend once more. 'Don't suppose you want to come.'

'Not really.'

'If you miss her this much, you should go and visit her.'

Naomi rolled her eyes and stayed silent, she had lost motivation to talk, to mope, to be alive in a world without Emily. Once Effy had gone out, she found herself in the same spot, watching the world go by from her place on the sofa. It wasn't the same without Emily and she fucking hated herself for being such a downer without her. She hadn't spoken to her all week, something about a celebration at the house she'd been staying in. More like partying without her, which only made Naomi feel sadder.

'Maybe you should go and visit her,' she muttered, repeating Effy's words. She creased her eyebrows, pulled Effy's laptop onto her knee and checked her bank balance. Maybe she could go and visit her. If she could find a cheaper way of doing it.

Half an hour later and she'd booked herself two buses, from London to Paris and from Paris to Spain; twenty five fucking hours on the road, not including the time between buses. Emily had better appreciate the effort. Naomi rushed into her bedroom, packed a small bag and ran out of the door. She didn't care that her hair needed washing or she wasn't wearing a bra, it'd give some teenage boy a hard on seeing her running around London like that, but it didn't matter. She didn't care because soon she would be with Emily and nothing else mattered.

'Tickets,' the bus driver called out and she handed him her ticket before alighting the bus. It was busy, many people taking up two seats each. Fucking selfish twats. Finally, Naomi found a spare two seats together midway down the bus. She hated bus journeys, on the few occasions she did go back to Bristol to see her mum, it was always by bus and she always ended up sat next to some fucking cunt who made the journey a living nightmare. Or someone who smelled like a brewery. Maybe that was the key to a successful journey, be the one that smells the worst in order to keep people at bay.

She contemplated calling Emily before they reached the ferry, but the thought of surprising her made her so much happier than she'd expected. The thought of seeing Emily was already making her feel excited, in more ways than one.

The majority of the ferry journey left her sat with her head between her knees and a bag in her hands. Boats had never been her thing, if she could have helped it she'd have flown. But she needed to get to Emily and she needed to get there as cheaply as possible. The things she would do for love.

Twenty nine hours, a brief shower at a service station, multiple bad meals and snacks, followed by the occasional cheap alcohol and a near miss crash on a road in the south of France and her destination had been reached. She hopped off the bus with a new lease of life, feeling refreshed and ready to explore a new city with the love of her life.

She approached the house that Emily had been staying in and knocked, waiting patiently for an answer.

'Hello, is Emily here?' she asked when a man answered, he looked puzzled. 'Emily?'

'Oh, Emily, of course. No.'

'She's not here?'

'Er, she, she, no.'

The lines of communication came to an immediate end and Naomi cursed loudly. The man closed the door, leaving Naomi stood on the doorstep, confused. She searched for her mobile and turned it back on, waited several impatient minutes for the signal to catch up with it. Then she dialled Emily's number.

'Ems, where are you?' she asked as soon as Emily had picked up.

'I just got off a plane; I'm coming to see you.'

'You, what?' she said, her throat tightening at the thought of Emily at the opposite end of her journey.

'I wanted to surprise you,' Emily said. 'Are you at home?'

'Not exactly.'

'What do you mean not exactly?'

'I'm in Spain.'

'Oh.'


End file.
